


Hello, Dan and Phil pumpkins

by CielAce



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: 31 Days Of Halloween, Ficlet Collection, Halloween, M/M, Phanfiction, Prince Dan, Sickfic, TIME TO GET SPOOKY, additional warnings will be added to each chapter, ghost au, octobercreateaday
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-03
Updated: 2017-10-10
Packaged: 2019-01-08 17:15:17
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,644
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12258651
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CielAce/pseuds/CielAce
Summary: Just some spoopy Ficlets





	1. Ghosts

**Author's Note:**

> The first chapter is called "Ghosts"!  
> I hope you all enjoy it <3
> 
> warnings for this chapter: major character death (it's a pretty lighthearted ghost story though, no worries y'all)

A ghost. There was a ghost living in his flat, Phil was sure of that. It wasn’t something he could discuss with anyone, because 30-year-old men who believed in ghosts weren’t exactly socially accepted. Phil had always been kind of a dreamer, but he had learned to hide that part of him a bit better, at least when he was around other adults. It wasn’t like he had to hide his whole personality, just one or two traits that others generally frowned upon, like the fact that he believed in fate or that he always wore mismatching socks because he thought it'd bring him luck. Or the fact that he believed in ghosts.

  
Phil wondered when he had first thought that his flat might be haunted. Maybe it had been a few weeks ago, when all his socks, that were usually just laying around in a mess on the floor until he picked them up on laundry day, had suddenly disappeared. He had been looking for them everywhere, only to find them in his laundry basket that he absolutely never used. And why should he? He lived alone and when his pile(s) of dirty clothes grew too big, he just carried the whole bunch to his washing machine and threw it in. His method was efficient and easy, so he only ever used his laundry basket when it all became too much and he had to divide the laundry into "things to wash now" and "things which don't need to get cleaned right now.”  
But still, that day a few weeks ago, all his loose socks had been in said basket.

  
And it hadn’t stopped there. The ghost living in his apartment seemed to have a problem with untidiness, so whenever Phil wouldn’t bring out the trash or wash the dishes immediately, he'd feel a weird presence, like a rush of cold air that made him shiver and suddenly his trash would be moving or the dishes in the sink would start rattling against each other until he got up and actually took care of all that stuff.  
Maybe it was the ghost of his grandma, he sometimes thought. His grandma had always valued tidiness. But then again, she would’ve probably revealed herself by now if she really was the ghost living with Phil.

  
So yeah, Phil had a ghost in his flat. And he couldn’t tell anyone about it. He didn’t quite know whether he wanted to tell anyone, either, because it felt kind of nice to have that secret for himself. And maybe the ghost had chosen Phil to live with for a reason, maybe they had some unsolved business Phil could help him with, maybe- Phil's thoughts were interrupted by a loud noise that came from his bathroom and his first instinct was to roll his eyes. He had tried to tidy up his cabinets and ended up with two trash bags full of empty shampoo bottles he hadn’t thrown out yet and now it seemed like his ghost wanted him to finally take the trash out. "I'm coming, I'm coming,” he murmured and sighed, not really wanting to leave his cosy bed just because the ghost haunting him had some sort of cleaning kink.  
Giggling to himself, Phil rolled out of bed and of course, as soon as he stepped into the bathroom, he could feel the cold presence of the ghost.  
"Hi there," he greeted, even though he obviously couldn’t see anyone. It had become a custom to talk to his ghost every now and then, just because he felt like it was the polite thing to do. "I was actually going to throw this out, eventually," he explained sulkily and it was almost as if he could hear his ghost snicker over his pouting face. It was like a far-away sound, but Phil did hear it and it made him smile. "Be right back," he said over his shoulder before stepping out of the flat, throwing out the bags of old shampoo bottles.  
Back in the flat Phil couldn't feel the presence of the ghost anymore, and to his surprise it left him disappointed. It wasn’t that he was lonely per se, or that his ghost was a great conversation partner, but somehow it was nice to think that there was someone sort of looking out for him.

  
Phil started talking to his ghost more from then on, making little jokes, telling the ghost about his day and just sort of bantering at it. He heard that strange sound that he interpreted as giggling much more these days and it always made him happy to know that he could make the ghost laugh about his stupid jokes.

  
Two weeks after the first time Phil had heard the ghosts laugh, he dreamt about them. There was a lot of fog in his dream, enough to make Phil get lost. He didn’t know where he was going or what he wanted when suddenly, a pale hand gripped his and dragged him with it. And somehow, in his dream, Phil just knew that that hand belonged to his ghost. He didn’t feel scared, though, quite the opposite. He had never felt as safe as he did right then, holding the hand of his ghost.  
Phil wasn’t able to remember much more of the dream, but the weird feeling of excitement and trust was still there when he woke up and it took him a bit to realise that he was really cold, almost to his bones.

  
"Hey...," he whispered, knowing that the temperature drop could only mean that his ghost was near. There was a longing inside him that he didn’t know existed, a longing for his ghost to answer, for Phil to be able to talk to him. "I had a dream about you," he added, not knowing why he wanted the ghost to know. "It was a good dream. Lots of fog. Couldn’t see your face, only your hand," he summarized, wondering about his ghost's thoughts. Naturally, there was no answer, but Phil could feel the cold air change, it got a bit warmer even though he was still certain that his ghost was there with him. "Well, I should probably get up. I suppose you don't want coffee?" he joked, sitting up, and the sound he heard the ghost make this time was like a hum of content. It delighted Phil to hear something other than the snickering of his ghost and he smiled at nothing in particular, hoping that the ghost knew it was targeted at them.  
Just after Phil had his first coffee he could hear rummaging in his bathroom. He furrowed his brows, knowing for certain that he had thoroughly cleaned that room just two days ago. What could his ghost possibly have found?

  
Walking into the room, he was met with a surprise that nearly made him drop his coffee cup, though. There, on the mirror, were words. That had never happened before. The mirror was fogged as if someone had taken a hot shower just now and written on it were the words "Hey Philly." It wasn’t much, but it was more than enough to make Phil squeal with joy. "I didn’t know you could communicate with me!" he exclaimed and the words on the mirror disappeared, just for it to say, "Me neither" in the same handwriting. "I've tried reaching out to you several times," the mirror said, and Phil couldn’t help but giggle. He could hear his ghost snicker with him and a warm feeling of appreciation welled up inside him. "So I wasn’t the only one wanting to talk," he observed and once again he could feel his ghost laugh. "Certainly not" the mirror read and Phil sat down on the rim of his bathtub. "So, what are we doing with this?" he wondered aloud and he could swear that his ghost was shrugging at that. He didn’t know how he knew, he just… knew.  
"You could ask me questions?" The words appeared and Phil wanted to hit himself for not having the same idea. "Of course! Alright then… what's your name?" He could hear his ghost snicker again and this time the words on the mirror looked a little like the finger that wrote them was shaking, maybe from laughing. "Of all the questions you could ask me, about life, about death, you want to know my name?" Phil shrugged and the words disappeared and for a while no new ones appeared, leading Phil to wonder if somehow his question had offended the ghost. Before he could apologize though, a new word appeared on the mirror. "Dan"  
"Dan! That’s such a normal name!" Phil couldn’t help but exclaim and this time it was almost as if he could feel his ghost—Dan—rolling his eyes. He wondered how much of the things he thought he heard and felt—the giggling, the shrugging, now this—were just coming from his imagination, but somehow, deep inside him, he thought he knew that it was all real.  
"Sorry for being boring," the mirror said and Phil laughed. "Yeah, of all the ghosts I've met you're the most boring one" and both he and Dan giggled for a while. They talked some more, mostly banting about Phil's messy flat and Dan's need to keep it at least a tiny bit cleaner (turns out Dan didn’t think he had any unfinished business with Phil, he had just found his flat cosy and all the cleaning was just him trying to be a good roommate) and it wasn’t until hours later that Phil realised he had been talking to Dan for the most part of the day. His butt hurt from sitting for so long and he was getting really hungry, so he got up, making Dan promise that they'd talk some more.

  
They talked a lot from then on, with Dan telling Phil a lot about his past life. They found out soon that Dan could only communicate using mirrors, so Phil got one for each room to make them less limited.  
They also learned that some questions had to stay unanswered, Dan not being able to tell Phil his full name or anything about afterlife and death. They talked for hours on end and if Dan sometimes wondered why Phil never had friends over and only seemed to leave his flat to go to work, he didn’t ask about it and if Phil sometimes thought that maybe it wasn’t too healthy to have his whole social life be about the ghost he was living with, he never dwelled on it for too long.  
Sometimes, the banter between the two of them would get almost flirty, like that one time Phil finally asked if Dan had ever seen him naked and Dan only answering with a wink emoji that he drew on the mirror. Also that one time Phil asked Dan what he looked like to which Dan had replied with "not as cute as you," which led to Phil blushing furiously and Dan not writing on the mirror for the rest of the day.  
They were very careful not to overstep the boundaries of their weird relationship, but neither of them really knowing what their boundaries were, it was hard. Sometimes, Dan flirted a bit too much or directly for Phil's liking, which always resulted in the latter escaping from the flat to take a walk or get some groceries or sometimes even meet up with friends he otherwise forgot most of the time.  
On the other hand, sometimes Dan seemed to be overwhelmed as well and while Phil couldn’t exactly read his body language, he now knew how to interpret the change in the air, like the temperature dropping when Dan didn’t feel good, or rising when he was happy.  
It was a balancing act, their whole relationship. More than once it left them both frustrated or even angry at each other. Still, they never left for too long, having started to need each other, to live off each other's company—or, well, in Dan's case it wasn’t exactly living.

  
Dan started to appear in Phil’s dreams more often now and sometimes he could even see some more of his ghost, a bit of his shoulder or even a curl. But as soon as Phil woke up it was impossible for him to remember the details and it started to annoy him. A lot.  
So one day he asked Dan to draw himself, which resulted in the bedroom mirror being covered with little stick figures with curly hair and arms that were just impossibly long.  
"At least now I know you're not an artist,” Phil sighed, a bit disappointed that this didn’t work out as well as he had hoped it would. "Haha, like you're so much better," he heard a voice say, close to his ear but simultaneously sounding like it came from three rooms away.  
It took him a few seconds and a repetition of the words, this time written on his mirror, to realise what had just happened.  
"Dan!" he shouted, jumping up and down like an excited child. "I just heard you!" "You… what?" He heard the voice say, this time sounding like it filled the whole room and Phil couldn’t help but laugh, laugh at the confusion in Dan's voice, laugh because it was all so surreal but wonderful, laugh because he felt like he'd burst if he didn’t express his happiness. "I love it when you laugh so much that your tongue sticks out," Dan murmured, as if he was talking to himself and Phil felt like his heartbeat couldn’t speed up any more. "I mean-" his ghost coughed and Phil was almost certain that Dan was blushing. "It's killing me that I can't see you," Phil stated, not having known just how true that was until actually saying it out loud.  
God, he wanted nothing more than being able to see Dan, touch him and be with him in a normal way, whatever 'being with him' implied. He collapsed back onto his bed, suddenly frustrated about the whole situation and he could feel Dan move around him.  
"I'm kind of glad you can't see me because it stops you from realising that you're way out my league,” his ghost joked and Phil groaned. "I bet you're hot," he murmured, by now knowing that Dan wasn’t the most confident person and if he had been sure that Dan was blushing before, the heat wave hitting him all of a sudden combined with a high pitched "Phiiiiil" in his ear definitely confirmed it for him. He laughed, tongue sticking out again and Dan fell into embarrassed silence. Or, well, Phil thought it was because he was embarrassed at first, but when he could suddenly feel the presence shifting until he couldn’t sense Dan near him anymore he got worried that he might have said something wrong.

  
Maybe it had been too much for Dan, Phil suddenly being able to actually hear his voice? Maybe he was so self-conscious that Phil's compliment had been too overwhelming? Maybe something else was wrong, something Phil knew nothing about, maybe Dan had ghost business to attend, maybe—suddenly Dan was back, interrupting Phil's nagging thoughts with a wave of cold air. Something worried him and Phil wished he could embrace him and maybe help him sort through his anxieties. "What's wrong?" he asked carefully, not wanting to scare his ghost away again. He could feel much more than hear Dan sigh, a feeling of deep sorrow rushing through Phil's entire body, leaving him suddenly exhausted. He didn’t dare to speak, just waited for Dan to say something, anxious for it to be something he did not want to hear.  
"Phil, I've been thinking… what if the reason it gets easier for you to… talk to me or feel me or whatever is because… what if… what if we're getting too close?" Dan's voice was pained and his emotions were almost tangible in the air. "What do you mean?" Phil managed to ask after a long pause and he could feel Dan's unwillingness inside his bones. "Well… you barely leave the house anymore… you barely eat… all you do is talk to me and while I absolutely love it, don’t get me wrong, I don’t think it's how you should be leading your life." He took a deep, shuddering breath that felt like a freeze ray to Phil, who was shaking his head trying to make sense of what Dan had just said.  
"It's not healthy, Phil, it isn’t. And I may not have been dead for a long time or you know, wise at all when I was alive but I know that this isn’t… this isn’t good for you." "Dan…" "I'm worried you might be dying. Because of me," the ghost finally said, his last words carrying a sadness with them that made tears appear in Phil's eyes.  
He knew Dan was right; somehow he had let his relationship with this ghost take over his whole life and all of a sudden Phil realised he couldn’t remember the last time he had eaten an actual warm meal. Maybe he should order Pizza this evening and then text some of his old friends, seeing if anyone still wanted to talk to him. It wasn’t like Dan was going to disappear if Phil had and actual social life, was he?  
Phil sat up, staring into the mirror next to his bed. He dreaded the next question, knowing that he had to ask.  
"You're not going to disappear though, are you?" Phil's voice was barely a whisper and he cleared his throat, somehow not wanting to let Dan know just how much that thought hurt. His ghost didn’t answer right aways, the air around Phil getting colder and colder until he was actually shivering. "Dan…" he tried, his teeth chattering.  
"I'm not good for you, Phil." a sad voice whispered into Phil's ear and he wanted to reach out and hold Dan, to embrace him and tell him that he was amazing and that Phil loved having him around.  
Instead, he only shook his head, sighing.  
"We don’t even know if your theory is right. Maybe I can hear you because I know you much better now or because I'm actually a magician or… I don’t know. And even if you're right, it's not your fault I kind of just forgot about my life. It's just so nice to have you here and I love being around you and I really like you! You're my best friend!" Dan huffed, but the air around Phil got slightly warmer and he knew what he said hadn’t been completely wrong.  
He went on, explaining to Dan how he'd decided to order some nice food and get in touch with some of his friends and slowly but surely the ghost relaxed, an air of contentment surrounding Phil. They even started making plans for the next day, with Phil wanting to go out to get some groceries and Dan urging him on to "Meet some friends! Take a walk! You're paler than me and I'm a fucking ghost!"  
They ended up giggling and when Phil announced that he was going to take a shower, Dan even made a joke about trying to keep himself from watching.  
At the end of the day, Phil had a belly full of pizza, a freshly made bed and plans for meeting an old friend the next day. Dan kept telling him that he was proud of him and Phil kept insisting that he was just being a little less lazy than he had been the past few weeks.  
That night, he fell asleep at a reasonable time, feeling accomplished and excited about the next day.

  
The following week wasn’t too spectacular, but something had changed. Phil had at least one warm meal every day, he'd met up with three friends in only one week and he had looked for a new job. Things were changing and Phil could feel himself feeling better physically, too. He hadn’t even realised how unhealthy his life had become and how bad his health had been, but now that he showered regularly and started leading an actual life again, he felt much more energetic and content. Of course, that didn’t keep him from flirting with his ghost or talking to him constantly whenever he was at home, but now it was much more balanced. It was good, a good life that Phil thought couldn’t be better.

  
A few weeks into this, Phil woke up one morning with a bad feeling. He awoke abruptly, his heart beating too fast, his fringe sticking to his face. It was too warm, so he threw his blankets back, trying to stabilize his breath. "Dan?" he asked, somehow anxious. It was too warm. Dan never felt this warm unless he was incredibly happy or embarrassed. But even then, it just… felt different.  
"Dan?" Phil repeated, his voice quiet, his mouth dry. Where was his ghost? It wasn’t impossible for Dan to leave and it wouldn’t be the first time, but the last few weeks Phil and him had spent all of their time home together and the only moments Phil couldn’t feel Dan's presence were when he had explicitly asked for privacy.  
Phil rolled out of bed, wandering through his flat hoping that Dan would be in one of the other rooms, but he couldn’t find him. It was hard not to worry too much and Phil couldn’t help but remember Dan saying "Maybe you can only talk to me because we're too close". He had been feeling pretty good and healthy lately, so what if Dan's theory was right? Still, Phil didn’t want to overthink the situation, after all there was a good chance Dan was just attending some sort of ghost business.  
Right now he shouldn’t worry about it too much, Phil decided, but he didn’t go back to sleep, instead pouring himself some coffee and watching tv, waiting for Dan to come back from wherever he was.  
He almost fell asleep when the air around him suddenly felt colder, making him freeze a little bit. "Dan, you're back!" he exclaimed, waiting for his ghost to answer, but nothing happened. He would've thought that Dan wasn’t in the mood for talking if it wasn’t for the irritation he could feel radiating from somewhere around him.  
Almost automatically, Phil looked at the mirror hanging on the wall and there it was, the writing that was so familiar, even though he hadn’t seen it in several months.  
"So this sucks" it said and despite feeling slightly numb and more than just slightly scared, Phil gave a laugh. Leave it to Dan to react to this in the driest way possible.  
"Do you think your theory was right?" Phil wondered and he could feel Dan shrug. Why was he able to feel Dan's mood but not talk to him? It wasn’t fair!  
"If it is, I'm glad you're better. And we can still talk like this, so it's not all bad." Dan wrote and Phil sighed. "I miss your voice already." He muttered, and the air around him got warmer. Dan didn’t reply to it, but when Phil went to the kitchen to refill his cup, the mirror he had there showed the drawing of a little heart. "Me too." he whispered, almost inaudibly, but Dan must have heard because more and more hearts started to appear. Maybe this was okay, maybe they could still do this, Phil thought. And with his finger he drew the shape of a heart on the mirror.

 

Phil Lester didn’t fear his death. After having lived a fulfilling live he was more than ready for it and when he started to hear a voice talk to him, instead of worrying, he smiled. The voice told him to go see a doctor "and stop smiling like this is a good thing", so he went and let someone tell him what he already knew. That he wouldn’t have much longer.  
Phil went home alone that day, but he wasn’t alone when he came home. A rush of cold air and the feeling of worry hit him, but he smiled it all away. After all, he knew that he would have something to look forward to.  
From then on, whenever Phil would look into one of the many mirrors he had in his flat, there would be a single heart drawn on it. And five months after the day he'd heard that voice again for the first time in years, he lay in his bed, a young man with wavy, brown hair sitting by his side, holding his hand, telling him endless stories.


	2. Halloween Candy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> cn
> 
> this is a sickfic and there will be mentioning of vomiting!

"Okay, so Halloween's over and Phil and I have bought and eaten so much candy," Dan told the camera in front of him, and with it thousands of people watching his live stream.  
"So I thought we could make a 'what to do with leftover Halloween candy' baking video. You guys know as well as I how horribly, horribly wrong this year's baking video went and while it's probably fun to watch for all you masochists out there—" he giggled "It would probably be nice for us to put out at least one kind of sort of okay video."  
Here he paused, opening his arms wide. "So, what do you think about this cheeky little idea?"

He started reading the chat, seeing what his viewers’ thoughts were on his plans, reading some replies out loud.  
"Sophiascameo says 'Yes', horsememe says 'I love it', Dani says 'Bake for us Daddy', okay, that's enough for now then!"  
He tried to stifle a laugh, shaking his head. Would he ever get his audience to stop calling him daddy? He doubted it, but then again he knew that it was a term of endearment so he didn't really mind, just enough to call them out on it when they used it too much.

"I'm glad you guys like the idea! I've literally—” His phone made a noise, alerting him that he had a text but he ignored it. "I literally scrolled through loads of blogs - not even tumblr blogs, actual ones—just to find recipes we could use. I feel—” His phone buzzed again, startling him. "Bloody hell," he murmured, shooting an apologizing glance at the camera, picking the phone up to see who was trying to disturb him.  
The messages were from Phil and he opened them, now curious. Phil normally knew better than to interrupt his live shows, unless it was important, so Dan felt it was okay that he took the time to read what his friend had sent him.  
The first message said "I'm not svfelling wel" and the next one said "Helop?" Dan furrowed his brows, abruptly worried. Phil was a grown man, he could take care of himself if he was feeling sick, so it had to be bad for him to actually text Dan.

Suddenly remembering that he was live, Dan looked back up into the camera. "Okay guys, looks like there's some sort of domestic emergency I need to tend to." he joked, trying to wrap things up quickly so he could start looking for Phil.  
"I'm really sorry but it looks like this is it for today! I gotta go, I'll keep you updated if this—” he pointed at his phone "—was actually important, I guess. Bye!"  
He didn't even bother properly saying goodbye by reading out the top fans' names but if this was an actual emergency he knew his audience wouldn't be too bothered by it. And if some were, they should probably get their priorities straight, he thought, before closing the website and leaving his room.

"Phil?" he shouted through the apartment, but there was no answer. Not knowing if he should actually be worried or rather annoyed, Dan looked for Phil in the kitchen as well as his bedroom and their gaming room. There was no sign of his friend, so he repeatedly shouted his name until he could hear some noise from the bathroom.  
"Phil, you in there?" he asked, knocking on the door lightly. There was a pained voice grunting something he couldn’t quite make out, but thought sounded close enough his name that it'd be fine for him to open the door.

And there Phil was, leaning over the toilet, his hair sweaty and his glasses on the floor next to him. Dan rushed to his side, carefully touching his friend's shoulder.  
"Hey, are you okay?" he asked, obviously knowing that the answer would probably not be an enthusiastic yes. If Dan was the one with his head in the toilet bowl and Phil had asked him a stupid question like that, he would definitely have a sarcastic remark ready, but as it was Phil sitting on the floor, his answer was a weak "No.”  
Dan kneeled down next to his best friend, slowly rubbing his back. "Did you eat something wrong?" he tried to learn what caused Phil to be so miserable, but all he got was a little whimper, so he decided that he could still ask questions later. Right now, he focused on moving his hand on Phil's back in slow circles and when he started to retch, Dan made sure to murmur encouraging words, just to make sure Phil knew he wasn’t alone.

They sat like that for a few minutes, until Phil sighed and sat up slightly. "I think I wanna go to bed." he mumbled and Dan nodded. "But I don’t wanna get up," his friend added, leaning back and letting his head fall on Dan's shoulder. His forehead was sweaty, but it didn’t bother Dan as he brushed the hair out of Phil's face, resisting the sudden and weird urge to press a kiss on top of the other man's head.  
Maybe he was getting sick, too.  
"I know it's super cosy here," he joked quickly, distracting himself from his stupid thoughts, "But believe me, your bed's much more comfortable. Come on, mate."  
He helped Phil up and they made their way to the bedroom, Dan holding some of Phil's weight as his friend stumbled alongside him.

Once they managed to get to the room, Phil collapsed onto the bed, moaning loudly.  
Dan made sure he could leave him alone for a moment and went to the kitchen, getting a big vase in lieu of the bucket that he thought they should have somewhere, but couldn’t find right now.  
He also brew Phil some tea, still not knowing what caused him to be sick, so he couldn’t think of anything else to get him other than that. Should it turn out that Phil had a fever, Dan could still get him some aspirin that was stored somewhere in the bathroom, he thought, but they weren’t really stocked up on medical supplies so he just hoped it wasn’t anything more serious.

Back in Phil's room, Dan put the tea and vase on the bedside table, sitting down next to his friend.  
"How are you?" he asked, and Phil shrugged. "Better," he replied, already sounding a little less weak than earlier and Dan let out a sigh of relief.  
"Probably nothing serious, then?" he asked, hoping that Phil would finally tell him why he had gotten sick all of a sudden, but the man just murmured "Yeah" and pulled his blanket over his head. He mumbled something Dan couldn’t understand, so he leaned forward and peeled back the blanket, trying to ignore how adorable Phil looked at that moment, looking up at Dan with those big blue eyes of his, pouting a little, his cheeks red.  
Dan couldn’t help feeling protective of the man in front of him and once again, he longed to be able to kiss him on the forehead as a sign of his fondness.  
Of course that wasn’t exactly acceptable to do, seeing as he and Phil were just friends, best friends, flatmates and maybe something more they didn’t have a word for, but that was definitely less than anything non-platonic.

"Daaan," Phil said in a whiny voice he normally only used when he tried to convince Dan to do something stupid for a video, and Dan rolled his eyes, even though the smile tucking on his lips betrayed him.  
"Yeah?" "Can you stay with me for a while?"  
Phil’s voice was a bit shaky, as if he was unsure how Dan would react to this, but of course the latter couldn’t reject the proposal, not when Phil looked like a picture of misery.  
It wasn’t like he had any plans for the day, anyways, so he said "Of course, you twit", adding that he'd get their laptops from the living room so they could spend the day comfortably in bed.  
Once Dan and Phil were both settled in bed, pillows propped up against their backs, laptops in their laps, they fell into a comfortable silence, only disrupted by Phil whimpering every now and then.  
"My tum is hurting,” he had explained the first time and Dan had ruffled his hair in an attempt to comfort him. It had been a weird gesture, he thought afterwards, but it made Phil smile so it couldn’t have been that bad.

Dan's thoughts that day were quite odd altogether, he realised when they started to watch a film together and he caught himself thinking how nice it would be to interlace his fingers with Phil's.  
It wasn’t that he never had these kinds of fantasies, it was just that normally they were gone as quickly as they had come, but today it was just one stupid thought after the other.  
He guessed that it had to do something with Phil being all needy and just the domesticity of the whole situation, but no matter where it came from, it annoyed him.  
Phil and he were nothing but friends and any chance of becoming anything else had passed a long time ago. Dan still remembered those early days of their friendship, when everything felt exciting and like it could mean something, but nothing had ever happened and that was okay!  
He liked what they had, he liked how close they were, even if it made everyone—literally everyone—wonder about the nature of their relationship.  
And sometimes, Dan had to admit, even he wondered. What exactly it was that they were and if there had been a chance once, one that he had just failed to take.  
He didn’t like where his mind was going, didn’t want to open a box he thought he had sealed a long time ago, but as he was sitting in Phil's bed, so close he could feel his friend's body heat, he wanted nothing more than to turn back time and risk it.

"Dan…" Phil's voice interrupted his train of thought, and Dan realised that he had stared at him for at least a few minutes. "Are you okay?"  
"Yeah, why wouldn’t I? I was just wondering if you were, um, if you're contagious?" he stammered, hoping that it was a reasonable enough explanation to why he stared at his friend like that.  
Thankfully, it seemed to work, seeing as Phil looked away as if he felt uneasy about the question.  
He sighed and ran his fingers through his hair, and with a nervous voice he said "I have to confess something."  
Dan's heart started beating faster, and he cursed himself for being such a wreck, but he didn’t have time to beat himself up about it as Phil continued "I know you had plans for all the Halloween candy and it was so much! But I stayed up all night and the bowls were just there and I couldn’t help myself…" he babbled, darting an apologetic look at Dan.

It took a few seconds for his words to sink in, but once Dan understood, he gave Phil a baffled, round-eyed look of surprise.  
"Are you telling me you ate all our leftover candy? Phil, those were like eight pounds of chocolate! What the fuck?"  
He couldn’t help his voice getting louder, he wasn’t even mad, just astonished. No wonder Phil was sick, didn’t he have one ounce of self-control?  
"I'm sorry! I know you wanted to use it for something! I guess I have no self-control!" Phil said in a defensive voice and Dan couldn’t help it anymore, he started laughing loudly and whole-heartedly. His whole body was shaking and he thought about the live stream he had had earlier and how worried he had been about Phil being sick.  
Of course, he was a bit relieved it wasn’t anything serious, but just the fact that Phil had stayed up all night, eating tons of candy bars somehow was enough to keep Dan cackling for a while.  
Phil joined in and leaned his head against Dan's shoulder, giggling as if eating eight fucking pounds of chocolate was the funniest thing in the world.

They sat like this for a few minutes and whenever one of them would manage to stop cackling for a second, the other's giggles would be too contagious, so that they just kept snickering.  
Finally, Dan was so out of breath that he couldn’t possibly keep it up and in the spur of the moment, he put his arm around Phil's shoulder and pressed a kiss on top of his friend's head, still feeling a little high from the endorphins, not really comprehending what he had just done until Phil sat back, definitely not giggling anymore.  
Of course, it was just an innocent little kiss, but somehow it carried so much more weight than it should.  
"Sorry," Dan said, not really knowing what else to say, or what the fuck had gotten into him. Could it be that he wasn't really over the feelings he thought he had buried years ago? Could it be that he wasn’t really satisfied with how things were between him and Phil? And if that was the case, how should he deal with it? This was a bloody nightmare. He felt like he was 18 again, and it wasn’t a good feeling. What if—

"That was kinda cute," a cheery voice interrupted his train of thought, and Dan stared at Phil in disbelief.  
"It… was, wasn’t it?" he croaked and cleared his throat, trying to appear as unbothered as Phil seemed to be.  
"Yeah," his friend said, smiling and leaning his head back against Dan's shoulder.  
"You can be affectionate like this more often, if you want," he said quietly, and Dan was almost annoyed at how chill he was. "It's okay for guys to cuddle and all that, you know."  
And with that, he took Dan's hand into his, gently rubbing his thumb over the back of it, as if it was the most ordinary thing in the world and while it absolutely wasn’t, not for them at least, somehow Dan could only think about how right this felt.

He was nervous, more nervous than he'd been around Phil since the time they first met. He knew his heart was beating too fast, but hadn’t he thought about taking risks just moments ago? If there was a chance, even a tiny one, that Phil's word meant more than just 'Hey Dan it's okay for absolutely platonic straight male friends to touch each other sometimes,’ Dan wouldn’t let it go again.

He gathered all his courage and, with his fingers shaking, let his free hand roam over Phil's back. His friend hummed in approval and Dan thought he could feel the hand in his getting slightly sweaty, but he didn’t dare to look directly at Phil, instead staring down at their intertwined hands.  
His hand on Phil's back was slowly moving upwards and finally, there wasn't any fabric between his fingers and Phil's skin anymore.  
Dan paused for a second, taking a deep, albeit shaky breath before gently stroking the soft hair on Phil's neck.  
Phil reacted by inhaling sharply and burying his face in the crook of Dan's neck, and Dan could swear he could feel Phil whimper a little.  
He felt hot and cold at the same time, his fingers raking through Phil's hair in a way that was so intimate that it was almost unbearable, and when Phil started stirring, he stopped, unsure of what was right and what the boundaries were of… this.

Phil sat back, only to be able to look at Dan properly and when their eyes met, Dan let out a ragged breath and whispered "That was kinda cute," repeating what Phil had said what felt like hours ago.  
"Yeah," his friend whispered back, a smile spreading across his face.  
He looked adorable and utterly handsome, Dan thought, taking Phil's face into both his hands, looking at him fondly, wanting nothing more than to kiss him but pausing to give him a chance to decline if he wanted.  
And indeed, Phil shook his head, still smiling though.  
"I would love to kiss you right now, believe me, but I was sick just a few hours ago and I haven’t brushed my teeth since." He explained and from the relief of this not being a total rejection, Dan let out a huffed laugh.

"You're such a moron," he said and Phil laughed with him, his tongue sticking out slightly.  
This could work, Dan thought. This could really work.  
And he leaned forward to press a kiss on Phil's forehead, before sitting back, grinning.  
"What are you waiting for, then? Go brush your teeth, you stinky spoon!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for leaving comments and kudos, ily all <3
> 
> And a big thank you to my datemate who beta read this chapter as well as the last one! I love you and if the last sentence feels like something you would say, it's because you were my inspiration for it!


	3. Pumpkin

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was very loosely inspired by a fic I'm currently reading, I will share the link below because I really like the idea and the way it's written!
> 
> I also kinda feel like I need to apologize for not really making this about a pumpkin?
> 
> cn swords

"Come out, damned monster!" Prince Daniel the thirteenth shouted, standing in front of a cave that he knew was the hiding spot of a terrible beast.  
He had been travelling for weeks to get to the so-called Bog Cliff, where he had been led by people's advice. People who had suffered under the monster's cruelness, people he had vowed to protect as was his duty as crown prince of this kingdom.  
There had been quite the talk about the monster, but other than pointing him into the direction of where it seemed to emerge from on the regularly, just to unleash its brutality, the people did not have a lot to tell the prince.  
  
Still, he had made it this far and only on the last night had he finally found a trace of the beast, leading him to the cave he was now standing in front of.  
Daniel banged his sword against the armour guarding his legs, making more noise which, he hoped, would lead to the horrendous beast showing itself.  
"Oi!" he shouted as well, hoping that he sounded braver than he felt.  
After all, all Prince Daniel knew about the monster he had been sent out to slay was that it was the size of three big horses and the colour of witches’ brew and that its strength was that of 50 brave knights.  
There was no doubt that he was about to meet a horrible monster, one so ghastly that no one who'd seen it could describe its appearance, for it was too gruesome to find words for it.  
Daniel did not know if he would come out of the fight uninjured or even alive, but it was his duty as prince to at least try to call a halt to the horror caused by the monster, and he was nothing if not devoted to his people.  
Still, even though he was aware of the honour it meant to fight for the people he reigned over, his nerves weren't as calm as he wished they would be.  
  
Daniel was starting to grow impatient and while normally it was quite easy for him to stay cold tempered even in the bloodiest fights, it unnerved him not to know what he was going to encounter. Not that he was one to get into a lot of fights, not with him being the crown prince and furthermore uninterested in pointless battles, but when he fought, he fought well.  
"Show yourself, beast and face the prince whose kingdom you terrorise!" he yelled again, hoping to invoke some sort of reaction, but still, he heard nothing.  
Frustrated, he let out a grunt, contemplating whether to take the risk and walk into the monster's cave or wait for it to show up to this fight, but not coming to a conclusion, he simply stood there, waiting, every now and then shouting out a reminder to the beast that he was waiting for it.  
He stood there for hours, his suit of armour heavy on his figure, his voice coarse from all the yelling, when he finally received an answer.  
Although it wasn't quite the one he had hoped for.  
  
"Hey, could you try to be more quiet out there? Some of us are trying to sleep!" A voice yelled at him, seemingly coming from the monster's rock shelter.  
Prince Daniel was puzzled, but as the voice had sounded very much like that of a human to him, he felt it was his duty to answer to it. After all, all humans living in the kingdom were his own people and this couldn't possibly be the monster's voice, now, could it?  
No one had told him the monster would speak.  
"Hello, stranger! I am Prince Daniel of Howell, here on my duty as a crown prince to slay the beast of the Bog Cliff!" He wasn't quite certain if there was anything else he needed to say, but before he could make a decision, a silhouette emerged from the cave.  
Daniel clutched the grip of his sword but didn't draw as the figure before him seemed far too small to be the monster he had come to battle.  
As a matter of fact, the one approaching him appeared to be a person moving with a shuffling gait.

  
Daniel straightened, his hand still on his sword's grip, trying not only to cut a fine figure, as was a custom when he was around other people, but also to determine whether the man in front of him would pose a threat or not. After all, he had come out of the cave that Daniel knew to be inhabited by a horrible beast, seemingly bothered only by the prince's shouts.

  
He did not look like someone Daniel would reckon to be a monster's accomplice, much rather resembling the loners and magicians Dan knew to live scattered across the kingdom and had had the honour, or bad luck—it was never easy to tell with these fellas—to have met on numerous occasions.

  
"Is this your territory?" the prince asked politely, giving a little nod to indicate his good means, but the man just looked at him, his brows furrowed.  
"Yes, it is. I live here and right now I'm trying to sleep, which is a bit of a struggle when someone" at which he gave Daniel a pointed look, "keeps yelling around." The stranger raked his fingers through his raven black hair, seemingly frustrated.  
Taken aback by the man's demonstration of irritated casualness, Daniel did not know what to say for a moment.  
"I am your prince?" he said, to make sure the man understood who he was speaking to, but his tone couldn't hide his astonishment and the man just shrugged. "You said so before."  
Fighting to make up for his obvious display of confusion, Daniel straightened up to his full height (which, as he realised with a pinch of exasperation, didn't show to be too impressive as the stranger was only a few inches shorter than him) and put on his best commanding tone.

  
"Listen, man, there's a beast living not far from here that puts the fear of god into the good people of my kingdom! I demand you to tell me whatever information you may have on the matter and if there's nothing you can tell me, to go home and stop wasting my time like this!"  
Daniel found his speech to sound rather impressive, but the man did not so much as flinch.  
He only stood there, looking him up and down with squinted eyes, making the prince wonder if he should just slay that cuss and save himself the time. He had never been one for unneeded violence, though, so he allowed the man to give him a look-over, studying the stranger himself.

  
He was scrawny with light, even pale skin and dark black hair, his clothes simple and while not exactly clean, they weren't ragged either.  
As Dan had noticed before, the man was tall, taller than most people Daniel surrounded himself with, and while his face was most ordinary there was something about him that gave the prince the impression that this man in front of him was nothing if not extraordinary.  
Maybe it was his eyes, Daniel thought. Blue as steel but not with a huff of its coldness they prominently stood out of his face, making the prince worry that the man in front of him might be able to read his every thought if he wanted to.  
Trying to analyse what he thought of the stranger, Daniel had to admit to himself that he found the man to be undeniably attractive. There was something captivating about his mysterious demeanour and Daniel could almost feel a pinch of disappointment when the man took a step back and opened his arms, seemingly done with his own study of Daniel's form. Some part of the prince wondered whether the stranger found him handsome as well.

  
"So, you really are out here to slay the beast." the man stated and it was clear to them both that it hadn't been a question.  
"That I am, good man. Now, will you help me with my quest or will you stand in my way? I don't love resorting to violence if I don't have to, but it almost seems as if you are trying to keep me from my hunt."  
"For someone who says he doesn't want to resort to violence you're quick to threaten me, prince," the man retorted and Daniel felt suddenly ashamed.  
He had never slayed something before, unlike his younger brother who was head of the king's guard and lived for the thrill of a hunt, be it man or monster, and for a brief moment, Daniel wondered what it was about this certain expedition of his that made him quite this restless.  
He let go of his sword's grip for the first time since speaking to the man and gave a short bow with his head.

  
"As your prince, I beg your pardon for letting my temper get ahead of me. Still, I demand an explanation for why you're keeping me from slaying the beast that I'm certain you know of. Speak, and your prince shall show himself grateful."  
Still giving off the air of impartiality, the man shrugged once again.  
"Listen, I'm not as good at making speeches as you but rest assured that there is no monster here, nor is there one terrorising the kingdom. It's nothing but a tale parents tell their children so they won't misbehave and it astonishes me that even a prince would fall for this fairy story."  
"You might have been lucky enough not to encounter the beast yourself, but there were people coming forward, pleading for someone to save them from what they had seen in the woods!"  
"And what was it they saw?" the man shot back, his tone sharp instead of cool now. Finally, Daniel thought. Finally, the guy was starting to lose his temper. Daniel much rather argue with a stranger in the woods about whether or not a strange monster existed than having to face someone completely unbothered by anything and everything.

  
"What they saw was a nightmare, terrible enough to have them fear for their life if they were to talk about it in too much detail! A monster, big as three horses, strong as fifty men and the colour of a witch's brew!" Daniel repeated what he had heard the people say, but the man only laughed.  
"And what else? Did they see the monster's face? Did they tell you what exactly the monster did that was so unspeakably terrible? I bet they didn't, and do you know why that is, prince? It's because they have only ever seen him leave. He doesn't even like people! Why would he attack them?"  
The stranger's voice had gotten louder and by the end of his speech he was red in the face, a tone of frustration in his voice.

  
"He?" Daniel just asked, regarding the man in front of him with narrowed eyes. It surprised him how sudden the man had spilt his secret, the secret that he knew the beast, maybe even helped to hide it. Daniel should shed his sword and behead the scoundrel right then and there, but something about the way the man spoke about the monster intrigued the prince. Still, he gripped his sword tightly while speaking to the stranger, too fascinated to interrupt him just yet, but nonetheless agitated by his demeanour.

  
"Tell me what you know and better tell me now or I will give you a taste of my sword! To fool me like this, even make me apologize!" He spat out before the man's feet, to show him that he had no more respect for him.  
Once Daniel would have captured the beast he would find a way to deal with this bastard, but for now he wanted him to live.

  
The man suddenly seemed tired as he let his head hang and started speaking, his voice flat.  
"His name's pumpkin. I don't know how he came to be, but I know that he couldn't hurt a soul. I've lived in these woods all my life and all I ever saw of him were the tracks he left while running from me. His only crime is his size and his appetite and I must confess that while I tried, I couldn't keep him from trying to sneak onto people's property to steal their fruits.  
He barely ever succeeded, though, seeing as everyone keeps dogs or even geese now-a-days who always scare him off before he could bring about a lot of damage."  
The man looked up at Daniel, his hair falling into his eyes, his voice angry as he went on.

  
"They started making up stories. They would see a track or the back of him and act like he scared them half to death, like he tried to eat them or something of the kind. He doesn't even eat meat!" He added the last part with a hint of exasperation in his voice and Daniel couldn't help but believe him.  
He wasn't gullible by any means, but something about the demeanour of the man warmed his heart and he couldn't find it in himself to think of the stranger as untrustworthy. He had spoken about that ominous monster with so much adoration and the tales that were being told seemed to cause him so much pain that Daniel felt compelled to offer his help as this man's prince.

  
"Listen, stranger, you haven't given me any reason not to doubt you, but I am nothing if not forgiving. If you can prove your tale to me, I promise you that we will find a solution for the problem at hand. But know that if you just told me another fairy tale-"  
"You will give me a taste of your steel?" the man finished for Daniel, a small smile on his lips and a tang of hope in his voice.  
The prince decided to ignore the jape, but to himself he admitted that he admired how quick the stranger was to taunt him, as if Daniel wasn't his prince who moreover very obviously held a grudge against him.

  
"I would gladly introduce you to pumpkin, my prince, but like I said, he's shy and barely even lets me near him so we will have to find a way to approach him without scaring him off," the man explained to Daniel, who started wondering what he had gotten himself into, but he reminded himself that it was his duty as a prince to help his people where he could, and if that meant facing a monster without fighting it, that was what he would do.  
"You will need to take off your armour though, it's far too loud and shiny," he was told and almost cursed, his tone not hiding his exasperation.  
"You, a stranger I met in the woods who not only tried to keep me from my duty but then proceeds to tell me the most unthinkable tale, now want me to strip off my armour and thus give up my protection?" Daniel spat out and he would've happily punched the man right then and there, but was once again taken aback by the stranger's reaction.  
"Exactly," he only said, smiling up at the prince as if they were merely holding a conversation about the latest fashion in the kingdom.  
It astonished Daniel enough to make him comply, stripping down to the clothes he wore beneath his heavy armour.  
The stranger had turned around as if to allow Daniel some privacy and while he appreciated the notion he could've probably used some help with his harness. As it was, he shrugged out of it with some endeavour, too proud to ask for help.  
It took longer than usual, but when Daniel was done and exclaimed thus, the other man turned around to face him once again, smiling brightly.  
"By the way, my name's Phil. Just so you're not in the middle of nowhere with a stranger anymore." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (for anyone who cares, pumpkin really is a huge orange pumpkiny monster thing)
> 
> As always, thank you all for the kudos and thanks to my wonderful datemate and beta!
> 
> I've never written anything in this style before plus I'm not a native english speaker so I hope y'all can forgive any mistakes you may find <3
> 
> Here's the link to the fic that very very loosely inspired me: http://archiveofourown.org/works/9422483/chapters/21330383


End file.
